Crush
by Vashti
Summary: Angel unwillingly reveals some personal information to his niece.
1. Crush

Body _Inspired by DianaC, the first person _I_ know to write Angel/Fred fic. This will probably be the beginning of a series . . .or at least have a sequel._

_Oh, and I don't own anything. _ _Lyrics from "Firecracker" by Lisa Loeb from the _Firecracker _LP and "A Thousand Years" by Sting from the _Brand New Day_ LP_. 

§§§ 

Crush 

""Hey, what brings ya to the neighborhood?" 

Angel looked at the deceptively small girl somehow filling the doorway with a wry smile, "Weren't you the one who called me over? Weren't you the one who wanted to go out for the first time in a decade?" 

The girl rolled her eyes. "What, I can't want a visit from my Uncle Angel?" 

"Not your uncle Little Girl." 

"Don't call me 'Little Girl' -- we both know I'm not -- and whatever. Anywho, I knew ya'd love ta see Underground." 

"I've always heard of the 'Underground City' but never actually been." 

"Well duh." She turned and walked down the short hall. 

"Um," Angel called from the doorway, "did we forget something?" 

She turned. "Ka! I forgot ye've never been here before. Can't I just extend ya a universal invitation or something?" The vampire shrugged. "All right, come in ya big broody lug." He followed her into the living room where she picked up a remote control and flicked on the stereo system before dropping it on the couch and vanishing into her room. 

"I bet you practiced that." 

"Believe it." 

"I hope you're in there getting dressed." 

"No," she answered exiting, "I'm out here getting dressed." Shirt open, a pair of jeans and socks in one hand she calmly walked across the spacious living room throwing the items next to the gape-jawed Angel. 

"What, what are you doing?" 

Brow raised she looked at him as if he were a big a fool as he is tall. "Duh, dressing. The shirt I want is over there on the line." 

"You couldn't get it and take it with into your room and get dressed?" 

Face full of incredulity at his reaction she asked, "What's wrong wit' ya? It's not like I'm sexually appealing. Come on Angel, ya know as well as I every man I know has a complete big brother/little sister complex when it comes to me. Besides ye've known me since I was knee high to a duck." 

"You still are." 

"Ha ha." Taking off her shirt she threws it at him before pulling her choice off the line. "Ya act like ye've never seen me in a bra before. Again, what's wrong with ya?" 

"Nothing," he muttered from beneath her striped blue and white shirt. 

"What ye've suddenly developed an attraction fer me then?" When he didn't answer she opened her mouth in disbelieving surprise. "Oh yeah right Angel! And when did this happen?!" 

"It's possible." 

For an answer he got a snort. "Okay Mr. I-Suddenly-Love-Ya-Outta-Nowhere-When-I-Was-Fully-In-Love/Lust-With-The-Slayer who is it? Obviously when ya seein' my non-boobs yer thinkin' of someone else's, now spill." Sitting she pulled off her house pants and slipped on the jeans. Standing she glared at him and began, "Well, I'm wai- _I still want you. I still love you_." 

"Hey, what's with the wolf howl." 

Half angry she hit the vampire hard on the shoulder. "I happen ta like that part o'the song thank ya very much. How dare ya mock the one thing that's actually attractive about me?" 

"That dog whine?" he asked with a straight face. 

"Whendya get a sense of humor Mr. Smarty and when are ya gonna lose it already?" 

"Just zip up your pants." 

"Not till ya tell me who's got _yer_ pants in a knot." 

Girl and vampire stared at each other in a stalemate. Once again Angel was struck with the way she seemed to fill the room despite her smallness. She didn't blink. She didn't look away. She even controlled the urge to tap her foot. 

"All right. All right I give up. 'Ernim's red," he mumbled. 

"Erny's red?" 

"Ernase vred." 

"Ernis Vet?" 

"Her name's Fred!" 

"Nickname I'm assuming," she went on as if there hadn't been an outburst, zipping her jeans. 

"Yes." 

"And how did ya two meet?" 

"Demon universe. We kinda saved each other." 

"Ooh," she flopped on the couch next to him, "how romantic," she beamed up at him. "Do ya have 'er picture? Have you two been out? Can she cook? What does she look like? Is she nice? Does she know ya have a niece? Can I-" 

Angel held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, hold on. No, no, I don't know, I'll tell you while we're out, very, of course not and -- assuming that was can you meet her -- absolutely not. You didn't meet Buffy did you?" 

"Once or twice." At his growl she amended, "I was joking. Joking, ya know, 'Ha ha, funny,' that kinda thing? Sheesh, vampires." Slipping on her socks she asked, "So what are ya gonna do about the first date thing. How bout ya take her ta . . .oh no, that's probably a bad idea. Um, take her someplace swank and demon free." 

"I'm not taking her anyplace. There aren't going to be any first dates." 

"Why not?" 

"She deserves something better than a demon. She was in that dimension for five years." 

She rolled her eyes, "She befriended ya right?" Angel nodded. "Do ya think she likes ya too." 

"Enough to be my friend." 

"Then take it a little further. Find out if it can be more." 

"I already told you it's not going to be more." 

Standing quickly she whirled on her "uncle." "What is wrong with ya Angel? Ya want ta suffer, then show me yer angry," she said in a rare moment of absolute seriousness. "Fight with yer fists up or call for yer mommy, don't go with the self made hell. I think the Powers and the gypsies have made enough hells fer ya already." The tirade seemed to take something from her. She visibly wavered and Angel stood to steady her. "I'm okay, just PMS'ing." 

"Bleeding." She looked up at him questioningly. "You've past the PMS stage." 

"Eww Angel!" the moment of severity over. "I forgot ya could do that. Soon as I'm out of the bathroom we can go." Standing on tiptoe she kissed his cheek and flitted away. 

It was daytime, bright sunlight and there they were out amongst the day-people shopping and laughing and eating -- in the Underground City. No sun to make the Poof go poof . . .so to speak. Angel had to admit, he was enjoying this more than he thought he would. Really he'd only come here to visit his "niece." It'd been many many years since they'd seen each other. If his preternatural memory was correct, last time she'd seen him she was at Whistler's side harangueing him to get a bath. Time before that he was Angelus fresh from a blood bath. She'd slammed the door in his face. When he'd forced it open fully intent on showing her what he did to _insolent humans_ she easily slammed him to the floor before returning to her dinner. "And tha's what I do ta vampires who don't have sense ta know I don' want'em aroun' when they're drunk." 

"So why don't ya at least, ya know, take Fred ta lunch or something. Do ya know what'er favorite food is?" 

"Tacos," he answered without hesitation 

"Wow, it's true love." 

Angel scowled. "Nothing like that, maybe. She just hasn't had one in five years and it's all she eats right now." 

"Suuure. Riiight." He glared at her. "So why don't ya at least take her ta Taco Bell. She won't think anything of it." 

"Buffy's dead." 

She wheeled on him stopping the vamp with one hand on his chest. "Dead, are ya serious? How?" Angel related what Willow had told him. "Oh, I'm sa sorry." Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, spilling through her lashes. "Are ya all right?" 

"Okay. Are _you_ all right? Thought you said you'd never met." Sniffling she nodded. "So why are you crying?" 

" 'Cause I know how much ya loved her." 

"Oh." 

There in the middle of Underground she threw a hug around him like a cloak. "Ya want ta suffer then show me yer angry. Fight with yer fists up or call for yer mommy. Don't let Fred slip through yer fingers." Releasing him she flipped her deep red braid over her shoulder and pulled him down to another shop. "Now, how bout buyin' yer favorite niece somethin'?" 

"You're not my niece." 

"Details details." 

Fin   
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   [1]: http://www.gurlpages.com/tinpra/main.html



	2. Crush One

Body _All _Angel: The Series_ characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises and some other people I'm probably forgetting. In other words, they don't belong to me I just set them loos from their cages to play every now and then__. Lyric from _Solace_ by Mandalay._

_Dedicated to the people who (a) gave me feedback and (b) were like "Good story, now who was that weird chick?" Let's see if I can't answer a few questions, hmm?_

§§§ 

Crush One 

"I'll admit buyin' lunch was a good move Old Man." 

"Oh so now I'm 'Old Man' instead of 'Uncle Angel?'" 

She shrugged. "How's the blood? If I'd had more time I would have brought some with. Or stolen better." 

"I've had worse." 

She made a face remembering when one of the times she accompanied Whistler on his trips to clean up the ensouled vampire. Oh he'd had much worse. She hadn't thought anyone could sink lower than rat blood . . .leave it to her beloved "uncle" to do so. Changing the subject, mostly for her stomach's sake, she said, "So dish already." 

"You know," Angel commented offhandedly, "for a creature nearly as old as I am you sound fifteen." 

"Quit changing the subject after I do. Fer someone who just lost the love of his life ya seem pretty," she struggled for the exact word only to fall back on his, "okay." 

"I am." 

She rolled her eyes and snorted. "I was there when yer Moira died." Her brogue thickened as she went on, "Only a bairn she was and how yer mum cried to see her youngest die. And yae," she accused him with her voice, "ya always were a feckless lad Liam but that night I saw what nae else did. I saw ya cryin' yer pickled liver over a bairn nae more'n four months old when ye knew better than to love'em a'fore they're six years!" 

And hard as he tried he couldn't help but go back to the night she so vividly described. Angel cursed his preternatural memory. Yet she went on, brogue back to its smoother incarnation, "And so I'm knowin' that yer grievin' fer the Slayer. Is that why ya accepted my invitation 'cause I must say I was expectin' ya to turn me down like ya usually do. 

"Were ya tryin' to escape? Has it cut you so then?" she asked softer taking his large cool hands in hers. It wasn't a hold so much as tracing the fingers she knew so well, finding the calluses and work worn grooves of his palms she knew amidst the ones she did not. 

"What do you know about it?" he asked his voice unintentionally gruff as she brought, with her uncanny abilities, a grief Angel had thought well buried in himself. 

"That's how I was when Mum died. There was no one to comfort me because fer all eyes to see I didn't need any. The town didn't know whether to condemn me fer not showin' enough respect fer the dead or respect me fer bein' strong." 

"You never had a mother," he hissed. 

Instantly her spine was steel rod-straight, her nails dragging across his skin as she withdrew from him. It had been said in anger and pain but it hurt nonetheless. Had they been anywhere else she would have slapped him; it was taking considerable effort not to do so. 

He knew the flashing of her eyes from deep brown to red that matched her impossibly dark hair was a trick but it still enervated him. "I had a mother," she said with an icy calm that burned his skin. "Ya know and I know that though I may look like a fifteen year old girl I'm not. Ya know and I know that I'm as strong if not stronger than ya are. Ya should know better than ta mess with them as touched by the fae Liam," she said in an admonishing tone. "I've outlived every member of every natural family I've belonged to and I mourned them all but I only had one mother and she is beyond yer touch do ye understand what I'm sayin'?" She couldn't have been more threatening than if she'd held a stake above his heart. "Do all of ye understand me, Angelus and Angel, 'cause I'll not be wantin' to explain meself again later. 

"Now," she said in a lighter tone, "this was supposed to be about ye, not me." And it was all over and done with in that one sentence. 

"Yes I came to escape," and all was forgiven with that one admission. 

"The others, how are they takin' it?" 

"Better than I am," he answered with a chagrined smile. 

A frown marring her creamy skin she asked, "Why do ya say that?" 

"They're dealing with their grief. I'm just . . ." but he couldn't find the word. "Sublimating it?" she supplied. Angel nodded. 

"Why don't ya talk to someone about it? Someone ya see more than once every few decades," she added before he could say he _was_ talking about it. "Take my word for it, it will help if ya talk to them about it. It'll draw pain out from where ya got it hid so deep even you have trouble findin' it some days." 

Angel covered his shock at her accuracy by saying, "I thought clairvoyance was one of the many gifts you _didn't_ have." 

She smiled sympathetically. "And yer right. Told ya I've been here before. I can honestly say I know what yer goin' through and it's not pretty. Took me nearly fifteen years to work it all out." He really was surprised until she said, "But what's fifteen years to the likes of us? I'm sure if I'd still been a mortal I'd have worked it out long before . . .or died tryin'." 

"I don't want to die trying," he said sardonically. 

"Precisely my point. 

"You tread on old ground like it's nothin' but it's like you hardly see the sky some days isn't it?" 

He licked his lips and nodded. That was it exactly. "Besides they're dealing with their own grief, I don't want to compound their pain with my own." 

"Pain schmain. Sorry, sorry," she was properly apologetic at his grim look. "Look if that's yer worry, or excuse as I'm thinkin', then why don't ya talk to someone not so closely connected to Sunnydale." She closed her eyes for a moment before dazzling him as they seemed to brighten unnaturally for a moment. "How about the Black lad, Charles Gunn. He knows pain, he knows grief but he doesn't know Buffy. He might be perfect. Or better still --" 

"No don't --" 

"Fred! If what ya tell me is true she knows pain as well as the lot of ya. Ya said she was in Pylea for five years?" She shivered. "Zipped through there once by accident. Thought I was mortal. Taught them a thing or two a'fore comin' home. Look Uncle, if she made it through there with the least bit of sanity after five years then she's gotta be awesome. Besides," she added, "it'll be a great way to make yer move." 

"Little Girl," he said warningly. 

"What? What'd I say?" The vampire shook his head trying to reconcile the matchmaking creature before him with the one who, only moments before, was reminding him of exactly who she was. "Come on Uncle Angel, tell me. Tell me please!" 

Fin  
  
  
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   [1]: http://www.gurlpages.com/tinpra/main.html



	3. Crush Back

Body _All _Angel: The Series_ characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises and some other people I'm probably forgetting. In other words, they don't belong to me I just set them loos from their cages to play every now and then._

_Lyric from "Spanish Doll" by Poe from _Haunted_ LP._

§§§ 

Crush Back 

"You sounded Scottish there for a moment." 

"I am originally -- Scottish that is -- didn't ya know?" 

"So what brought you to Ireland?" Angel wanted to know, genuinely curious. 

"Moy mother," she answered a twinkle in her eye. "We had some family land up in the Highlands. When the Brits came ta seize it some of the cousins weren't sa friendly about it. They nigh got us chased out of Scotland." 

"Doesn't explain why you came to Ireland. Why didn't you go to the Continent or the States?" 

She looked at him incredulously. "With these looks? Ya must be out of yer mind, Uncle Angel. The Scots were as pursued as the Irish were about to be. Anyway Mum loved Ireland. She'd been there once with my Da and decided on the spot if she ever had to be someplace else it'd be Eire. 

"I hated it." 

Angel looked at her over his glass of blood surprised. "Didn't seem that way to me." 

She shrugged. "I was only a child then. Scotland was my only home and Ireland was... different. They talked funny. If I was fae touched then I didn't know it. I remember meetin' ya though. No, I remember meetin' yer Mum, and there ye are runnin' wild from the byre in the back into the kitchen, feckless as ever you would be. 

"I thought ye were grand fun," she said with a smile. "Tres cool as they say it today. Do ye remember that, Angel, ya dragged me up out of my seat and pulled me into the stable. Yer Da had just gotten ye a new pony and ye were anxious to show 'im off, even to an unknown lass like me. 'An ya mus'n't call me simply "Liam,"' ya said, 'me bein' older'n ya an' all. Ya must find somethin' more adult soundin.' Mother never did understand why I called ya Mister one day, Lord -- or Laird as I said it then -- the next and Sir the next." 

Remembering he said, "Until she made you settle on Uncle. It was cute -- then." 

"And it's apt now. Ya know, I always loved ya Angel, else I wouldna taken ya in all those times. I would have abandoned ye like I probably shoulda when ya became a demon then taunted ya when ye were less than a man." 

"But you didn't." 

"I didn't. Yer my Uncle. My only. My favorite. Besides by that time it was obvious I wasn't normal. Mum was dead, I was beatin' up boys twice my size and ye were a drunken lay-about who could hardly remember I existed let alone my name. Why'd ya come to me then after ye'd been changed?" Absently she tucked a stray red curl behind her ear. 

Angel stared into his cup thoughtfully for a moment knowing the answer but not quite willing to share. "I was there to kill you but you knew what I was. You knew why I was there and it didn't phase you at all. If I remember right," and it was already making the corners of his lips tilt up, "you said, 'Pull up a chair and I'll see if I can get ye a pint of somethin' a wee bit more red than usual.'" 

"I nigh slit my wrist for ya." 

"Yes, but that was after you said, 'I'll invite ya in, but if ya even try fer me throat ye'll find I'm nae sa easy ta kill as yer family. Ye'll find I'm nae sa weak as I look and ye'll find I make a better ally than a meal.'" 

"Did I?" 

"Aye, that ye did, lass," he answered her with a terrible brogue. 

She laughed at him. "Yer horribly out of practice, Old Man." 

"None of that explains your magik however." 

"What, yer terrible accent? No, it wouldn't, would it?" 

Angel made a face that, to a passersby, would indeed interpret as one from a uncle to his niece. "You know what I mean. How did you become stronger than everyone else, where did you learn magik," he said in the old way. 

"Would ya believe my mum taught me? Taught me to fight and some of the arts at least. 

"Ya know, Uncle Angel, I really am a mystery to most everyone, includin' meself. The magik I had to learn but was not a straightforward sort of thing. I learned it by bits and pieces over the years when it came near enough to touch me otherwise I made do without. I mean, duh, what was the point otherwise? The strength though . . ." she paused thinking and remember. "Near as I figure it must have come from Mum. She was a strange sort fer that time, ya know. She lived on her own with her daughter -- Da died when I was a wee thing -- doing whatever it was she did. Fer years I assumed she merely lived off her share of the family holdin', but then it was seized by the English . . ." she let the sentence trail off and Angel understood. "But fightin' she knew aplenty an' how to drink and shoot an arrow and a musket and anything she might need to run her land. 

"She made me love Eire, ya know. I remember I woke up an' she was gone. I didna want her ta be dead but I knew it was comin' an' I knew there was na comin' back fer her. I remember, I remember pullin' up the coverlet an' climbin' next to her, wantin' the moment ta last ferever but it couldna. I remember when I woke up again, went to the door needin' some air. Lookin' out across the hills -- you remember our house was nigh outside the village up on a hill -- an' her love fore Ireland filled me as if it'd been my own from the beginnin'. All I knew that was pure and clear she left . . .," she shook her head. "There was nothin' left inside me but that. Nothin' in here," she placed her splayed fingers over her stomach. Across the table onto Angel's chest, "In here. Ya know what I'm sayin', don'tcha? 

"Angel, don't let it take ya fifteen years to get over the Slayer's death. Yer knowin' as well as I that she loved ya desperately, an' ye felt the same. She wouldn't want half yer existence to be buryin' the hurt ya feel over her death ev'ry time it rears its painful head. I'd hold ya in my arms and let ya cry it out, if it'd help. 'Course that wouldn't be copasetic at all would it?" 

Angel smiled wryly, painfully. "It wouldn't be the first time." 

"Nay, it wouldna, would it? And what about you, Uncle, how do ya explain _your_ magic?" 

She had this way about her that reminded him of Buffy. Or maybe it had been the other way around and that was one of the reasons he loved her: she was ever a reminder of his life and the niece that never was. "I don't have any." 

She looked at him incredulously. "Ya mean ta tell me that fer nigh on three hundred years ye've had those caveman eye brows and still managed to seduce most of the known world and half of the unknown one without magic. It's truly a strange dimension I've landed in." Angel rolled his eyes. She laughed. "Speakin' of dimensions --" 

"That's gross. Take your hair out of your mouth. Are you sure you're not as young as you appear?" 

Shooting him visual daggers she complied and went on, "-- how was Pylea? Are ye and Fred goin' back fer yer honeymoon? Rumor round the demon grapevine is it's human friendly now. Did ya have somethin' ta do with that, though it's pretty obvious ya did." 

"It's not going to happen." 

"Hmm, I understand. Fred probably would agree too: Pylea's got too many bad memor--" 

"Little Girl," he growled warningly. 

"What? I _am_ invited to the wedding, aren't I? Someone's gotta sit on yer side of the church fer family. Oh, you probably don't want to have it in a church either, do ya? It's so much easier bein' whatever I am. How do you cope with all the limitations, Old Man?" 

"Little Girl . . .!" 

Fin   
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   [1]: http://www.gurlpages.com/tinpra/main.html



	4. Crush Two

Body Angel: The Series _is owned by Joss Whedon, Kuzui Enterprises, Mutant Enemy and someone else who I can't remember. In other words, they aren't mine I just let them out of their cages for short stints in the unreal world._ _Lyrics from "I'll Remember" by Madonna from the _With Honors_ soundtrack_. 

_Last chapter._

§§§ 

Crush Two 

"Stay fer a drink, Uncle? I've got a fine bottle of Nabbiolo." 

"Only if you stop calling me Uncle." 

She laughed. "Right, 'cause that's going to happen after nearly three centuries of practice. Riiiight. Yer quite the funny man Angel." She walked into the living room, bottle and two glasses in hand. "Come now, a small swallow? If ya can survive a whole day with _me_ I'm sure ya can stand a drink of Nabbiolo." 

"What, no fresh blood?" he joked. "You usually have a bottle in the fridge waiting for me. Even when I show up unexpected." 

"Yer never unexpected," she said pouring out a glass of wine. Angel looked at her warily. She laughed. "Suspicious much, Uncle?" 

Eyebrow raised he answered, "Of you? Always." She laughed again. 

About to pour herself a drink she studied the glass critically. "Be right back." She got up and went into the kitchen still studying it giving Angel a chance to give the room a critical once over. When they had been children she'd often been at his house but it was much rarer to find young Liam at hers. 

Why had he come here anyway? That's right, she'd invited him. What better reason was there? Maybe because as much as he protested he liked knowing there was some connection to his past that wasn't fraught with guilt and shame. Maybe he liked fooling himself into thinking that he really did have a family, that there were people waiting for him that loved him, that there was a place that, when he went there, they had to take him in. It was a childish dream, one he shouldn't hold in his secret heart or any other place. He'd been more than happy to accept her invitation. He needed to get away. He needed to forget, to talk, to hid,e to free everything that had festered inside himself -- 

"There now, better." Her glass was full with the same rich red stuff as his own. "To pleasant surprises?" she asked raising her glass in a toast. 

Angel smiled. "Yes, pleasant surprises," he answered but didn't hear the, "I certainly hope so," mumbled around the wineglass. He took a delicate sip 

and nearly choked. "What the hell! What, what did you put in here!" 

"A little blood?" Her look said, Don't kill me, although they both knew (hoped) he wouldn't. 

" 'A little blood' my a-- This is more than just blood! Whose is it?" She was looking everywhere but at him. "Little Girl, I asked you a question. Answer it." 

"Um, well, ya know. If ya really want ta know . . ." He did. "It's mine." 

Quickly, but thoroughly, he looked her over. "There's not a mark on you. And don't tell me you've been saving it for a special occasion, this blood's fresh. Not more than ten minutes old." He grabbed her glass and sniffed it. Nothing there. 

"How'd you do it? And don't tell me the wounds have healed already. You may not be quite human but even vampires don't heal that fast." He remembered something. Grabbing a pale perfect wrist he felt it. "You slit your wrists?!" The glamour around the bandage disappeared. 

"Slit is such a strong word, Uncle." 

"I should take you over my knee and spank you." 

"Incest is still a crime." 

"Ugh!" 

She giggled. Really, she had the worst sense of humor of any-, any_thing_ he knew. " 'Twill heal in moments, I promise ya or I wouldn'a done it. I haven't seen ya in decades and ya think I'd shirk on hospitality? Puh-lease. Yer talkin' to the wrong non-girl. 

"Do ya want me ta get you another, less red, glass?" she asked, all pretense of silliness gone in the face of his anger. "But it'll have to wait. Someone's at the door." 

"I don't hear anything." 

_Tri-oh_

She flushed. "So I have ta get the bell fixed. Sheesh," she muttered, "never met such a picky demon in all m'life," going for the door. "Ah, come in Winifred," Angel heard her around the corner. "Uncle, I think you know Winifred." 

He couldn't be hearing her right. But then his eyes wouldn't be telling him the same thing too, would they? Was it some conspiracy of the senses and his niece? "Fred?" 

"A-Angel. Hi." She brushed a wild lock of hair out of her glasses. 

"Would ya like a drink of wine?" Fred jumped as his niece glided behind her. "It might calm yer nerves." 

"Sure. I haven't had wine in . . .oh ages." 

She reached for the bottle on the table. "Not that one. That's just fer Angel. I'll explain later. I'll be right back yer glass, okay?" 

"'Kay." Pouring Fred a glass from the bottle she had opened secretly-- "Ya really shouldn't leave her out there by herself. Don't worry I'm not going ta do somethin' wiggy ta her drink." Turning she handed the surprised vampire the glass. "Here, you take it out t'her," and gently pushed him forward. 

Fred took the glass from him graciously. "Ooh, I forgot how this burns. But it's good, you know." She looked at him expectantly. Everything hinged on his agreement. 

"Yes. Yes it does." 

"That girl, she's nice. I didn't know you had family." 

Angel couldn't help but glance back at the closed kitchen door. "She's the only one." 

"Must be nice to have family," Fred replied softly ducking her head. 

"We're your family now, me and Gunn and Cordelia and Wesley. And whenever your ready to go back to work they're your family too. They miss you Fred. They never gave up hope." 

"I know you said that before, but-- Oh I don't know! I'm just silly I guess." Fred twisted her hands in her lap then ran nervous fingers through her hair. "But you know what's really nice, havin' my glasses back." 

Angel couldn't help it. He laughed. "Did I say something wrong?" 

"No, not at all. It was me really. Everything's just been so serious the past few hours, the past month . . . Thank you Fred." 

"Oh but I didn't do anything." 

"You did," he assured her taking her hand in his and brushing his lips across her knuckles. 

Her mouth was opened in a surprised O. Jittery fingers picked up the wine glass and drained the contents. She put the glass down for a moment only to pick it up again. Empty. "Maybe I shouldn't have done that. I mean, one glass and I'm probably drunk as that one demon that owned me once -- he got drunk a lot," she told Angel confidentially. 

"I'm sure my niece will take care of you but I think it's time for you to go, Fred." 

"I suppose you're right." She looked about herself but she had no things to gather. "When are you coming home again Angel?" 

He paused, pain and longing chasing each other quickly across his face. "I honestly don't know. Give Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley my best, will you?" 

She nodded emphatically. 

"There's a cab waiting fer ya outside, Winifred." 

Angel and Fred turned surprised. "It was nice meeting you," she shook the dark redhead's hand vigorously. "I hope we can meet again or maybe you could come visit but that's the same thing as meeting isn't it?" 

"It was nice meeting ya too. I think ye'll be very good fer him." 

"He's been very good for me." 

"I think ye'll be better," she answered enveloping the taller woman in a hug. 

Fred smiled and gave Angel an impulsive kiss on the cheek. "Don't forget us, or, or stay away too long because you might remember us but decide you can't come back." 

"I'll come back," Angel said, "I promise." 

"Okay." And she was gone. 

"Ca--" 

"Don't say it Old Man. Save yer praise for the next time ya remember my birthday." 

"I should yank that braid right out of your head." 

"I'd love ta see ya try. I also see ye've finished half the bottle I made for ya." Angel hadn't noticed but he must have poured himself another glass or two of wine. It was heady stuff. "And so it should be. Don't ya think ya should be going too?" she asked leaving the doorway. 

Angel grabbed her before she could make her escape. Grabbing her by the arm he held her so that she had to look up into his eyes, "Don't ever do that again," he threatened. 

On tiptoe she gave him a quick passionate kiss -- 

-- before throwing him onto the floor. "And here I thought ya learned the first time. I'm thinkin' ya much prefer me as yer niece." She dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead as she passed laughter sparkling in her eyes. 

Some time later both wine bottles -- she'd opened another "house special" for the vampire -- were completely empty and the sun had long been. "What'll you remember about her most?" 

"Mum?" He nodded. She closed her eyes and said "I'll remember the love that she gave me, I'll remember the way that she changed me, I'll remember her strength now that I'm on my on. I'll remember happiness." She turned to him, "And ye Angel, about Buffy?" 

"Aye, the same lass." 

"Will ya stay the night Angel or nae?" 

"I don't think I'm in any condition to drive." 

She giggled drunkenly. "Aye, I mun agree. Where will ya stay, on the couch or do ya think ye can make it up th'stairs wi'out breakin' open yer head?" 

"I'll try the stairs. These are some steep stairs, Little One." 

"Just like me, the Steep Place." 

"But your first name's Sileas, Youthful One." 

"Aye but my full name's Sileas Cadha, Youthful One from the Steep Place." 

"Do you miss Scotland sometimes?" 

"Nae as much as I miss being in Ireland with Mum. And ye Angel?" 

"Aye, the same lass." 

"Ye should go back, Liam. Give yerself somethin' ta remember." 

"Only if you'll show me the place where you buried your mother, Sileas Cadha." 

Fin   
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   [1]: http://www.gurlpages.com/tinpra/main.html



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